


i'll make it up to you (every night)

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fitz is such a good husband, Fluff, Here's fluff take it from me I can't handle it anymore, I wrote this instead of sleeping last week, Jemma finally gets her drink, Married!Fitzsimmons, There's a bit of plot?, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Fitz doesn't forget about the things Jemma said she wanted when they were up in space and decides to fulfill those requests for her.





	i'll make it up to you (every night)

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from I'll Make It Up To You by Imagine Dragons (my go to song these days)
> 
> Kudos to my ride or dies jadesolo and leopoldjamesfitz for looking it over for me :):)

He's always paid attention to the finer details. Most of the things others would overlook, he would be the one to notice. But with Jemma, he saw and heard everything. He took note of everything she did, and listened to every word she said with a knack for recalling them to mind at a later date. 

 

And now was the time for him to put those skills to good use. 

 

He hadn't forgotten about some of the things that Jemma wanted once they were back safely on earth. And, of course, those requests were pushed back with having to be on the run under the false accusations that they were terrorists. But now that everything has settled, he can finally give her what she wants. 

 

He drops another box down in the middle of the room and collapses next to Jemma, who is holding a checklist in her hand. "We are going to need to do a bit of renovation, but I think we can make this work," she says, writing down the word with an asterisk next to it. 

 

After the ordeal was settled and they were no longer labeled a terrorist organization, they were able to return to their old base to pick up whatever belongings they could find and transport them to their new location at the lighthouse. They were relieved to see that their bunk survived the brunt of the blast from the explosion, many of their things still in tact. But they had plenty to purchase to make their new living space feel more like home. 

 

They filled up the blank sheet of paper fast with items listed that they'd need. Fresh paint to coat the walls, a tv for entertainment purposes ("and not a Bridget sized one," Jemma made sure to mention), and all the necessary novelties and miscellaneous items they would need to fill the space.

 

Just then Jemma's phone buzzes and she reaches for it, groaning when she sees the message.

 

"I'll be right back," she says, "Daisy needs me for something."

 

He tries to hide his smile as she walks over to the elevator and waits for it to arrive. He knows exactly what Daisy is doing; providing a distraction so he can finally do something nice for Jemma. He just hopes she can keep the charade up long enough.

 

When the doors shut behind Jemma, Fitz leaps into action and runs to their bathroom. Turning the dials on the tub, he watches as the water begins to rise, steam from the hot temperature wafting up into his face. 

 

He grabs the bubble bath bottle that Daisy slipped to him before and pours some into the bath, watching as the suds rise with the water. He pulls his jumper over his head so he can stick his arms around in the water to spread around the bubbles when suddenly he hears the elevator open and his name being called. 

 

Not wanting the tub to overflow, he turns the dials and stands up, shaking his arms to rid of some of the suds on his arms. He decides to hell with it and walks out into the other room, watching as her face turns from concerned to entertained. He must be a sight to look at: his arms damp up to his shirt sleeves with bubbles down the length of them, not to mention a sheepish look on his face.

 

"Fitz?" she asks, humor present in her voice, "What are you doing?" 

 

"Remember when you were talking about all of those things that you would've killed for when we were up in space?" 

 

She hums in response, stepping closer to him. "Yes?" 

 

He reaches forward and grabs her hand. "I figured I would fulfill your requests." 

 

Her eyes light up as he gently pulls her into the bathroom. Unfortunately, due to the fact that they haven't renovated yet, it's not the most romantic atmosphere. But it's still something. 

 

"Thank you Fitz," Jemma says with a smile, brushing her lips against his in appreciation. "Although I did ask for a shower, not a bath." 

 

"I felt like you deserved a bath. A long soak after all you've been through." He steps back so she can start undressing, peeling the clothes from her body. 

 

"They did allow for us to bathe, but I'm sure this will be a lot better than those were," she admits. She steps into the tub, at first wincing at the temperature, but then sighing at how good it feels. 

 

Sinking in, she notices Fitz making his leave. 

 

"Where are you going?" she asks, shifting to get more comfortable in the tub.

 

He stops and turns around, his eyes taking in the scene in front of him for a moment before responding. "I was going to let you have some peace and quiet." 

 

"I'd rather you join me," she counters. 

 

He chuckles, and walks over to press his lips to the top of her head. "Just relax for a bit. I'll be out there if you need me." 

 

He walks out, leaving Jemma alone. She sinks down into the tub, submerging her whole body but keeping her head above water. It's scalding hot, but the perfect temperature to burn off the memories of what they all went through in space. 

 

Jemma doesn't remember dozing off until she can hear the door squeak. She opens her eyes and focuses on Fitz, who's walking towards her with a small glass in his hand and clothes draped over his arm. As he moves closer, she notices he's holding a glass of gin. 

 

"Fitz," she whines, "you know I can't have alcohol." 

 

Their team had been more than wonderful to them while they were on the run. They managed to pull together an intimate event to marry the two of them, and even gave them a generous amount of time alone. 

 

Perhaps a bit too generous. 

 

Cradling her small bump, she watches as Fitz downs the whole glass and sets it down beside the tub. She almost whimpers at the thought that she can't have her long awaited drink, something she really wanted the most. 

 

Fitz then leans over and places his open mouth on hers, and realizes that he actually did it for her. She tastes the gin on his tongue immediately, groaning when she knows exactly what he is doing. 

 

He felt bad when she voiced her frustrations about never getting her drink, and so he had to find some way of making it up to her. 

 

The poor man doesn't even like gin. And yet he's doing this. 

 

The thought only makes her kiss him harder. Her hands move from her stomach to his hair in record time, neither of them minding the water that splashed out of the tub at the motion. Fitz especially doesn't seem to mind that he now has suds all in his curls. 

 

They sit like that for a few minutes, Jemma savoring the taste of the alcohol on his tongue. When she finally pulls away, his lips follow hers briefly to kiss her again before pulling away completely, for fear he won't be able to stop if they kept going. 

 

"Was that good enough?" he asks, panting. 

 

"Even better," she responds, just as breathless. "It combines my two favorite things. Kissing you and alcohol. Why wouldn't I love it?" 

 

He laughs, knowing that she is always overly honest when she's exhausted, and stands back up to leave. But her hand flies out to grip his before he can do so. 

 

"Stay," she says, her eyes closing halfway as a smile crosses her lips. "And don't even think about saying no again because I will drag you in here clothes and all." 

 

He can't find it in him to refuse, so he quickly strips out of his clothes - only half ignoring her enthusiastic gaze - and slides her forward so he can sit behind her. He pulls her against his chest and she hums in content, feeling his arms wrap around her stomach. 

 

Jemma could be happy to lie like this for hours, but Fitz soon leans her forward so he can wash her hair. She moans as he works his hands through her hair, and laughs at the way his cheeks warm up at the sounds she makes. 

 

When he's done, his hands move down to her shoulders and begin rubbing, removing all of the tension that's been built up for a long time. She's silent as he works over the small knots in her back, only releasing little noises when he hits spots that feel good or bad. 

 

After a few minutes, he watches as her head starts to drop forward, her breath laboring, and he chuckles silently as realizes she's starting to fall asleep. 

 

He slowly slides out from the tub, a half conscious Jemma left sitting up, and dries himself off. He quickly pulls on a shirt and boxers before picking Jemma up out the tub, pulling the plug to drain the tub, and standing her upright as he quickly dries her off as well. 

 

He can hear her mumble something that sounds like his name, and he smiles. He grabs the other pair of boxers he grabbed and he places her arms on his shoulders. "Jemma. I'm gonna need you to lift your leg up so I can dress you." 

 

She silently obliges, lifting her one leg than the other, and then raising her arms so he can pull the shirt over her body. They return to his shoulders after, though, and he moves forward to sweep her up into his arms, carrying her from the bathroom to the bedroom. 

 

Laying her gently in the bed, he quickly sends a thankful text to Daisy before sliding in beside Jemma. He is, to say the very least, surprised when she decides to shift her body until she's laying on top of him completely. 

 

"This isn't exactly what you requested when you mentioned you wanted a comfortable bed," he whispers, a tiredness starting to consume him. 

 

She doesn't respond, already too gone to answer. But it doesn't matter. 

 

Fitz presses a kiss to the crown of her head and pulls the blanket further up their bodies, his eyes sliding closed as he felt Jemma's breathing fall in sync with his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi! I'm fitzjemma on tumblr <3


End file.
